Destruction
by McGeeklover
Summary: Catherine looked around at the destruction, embers and papers floating in the air. People were groaning in pain, being led away by friends and then it hit her. Warrick and Greg were nowhere to be seen. They had still been in the building when the bomb went off. "Shit." A CSI: LV version of CSI: NY "A Charge of this Post" A prompt for Doomedphsyx2030 Enjoy!


**Destruction**

**Hey all! Here's another story prompt that was requested by Doomedphsyx2030. It's an idea from CSI:NY _Charge of This Post_ but CSI: Las Vegas style. Some things are a bit different though. Enjoy!**

"I can't believe Grissom stuck me with you again," Warrick growled as he and Greg stepped out of the Denali and headed over to the office building past a block party. "After the case _you_ messed up last week, I'm surprised he even let you back into the field."

Greg frowned, feeling a stake dig into his chest. He couldn't believe Warrick would say something like that to him. It wasn't his fault the guy got away. He had nearly knocked him out and bolted; he managed to get back up, but he was out of breath and dizzy. By the time the killer was found again, he had murdered another child. He already felt super guilty and now the man, he considered a mentor, was putting him down. Greg's self-esteem was lowering with each heart stabbing word that came out of his mouth.

"Warrick, I said I was sorry; but he knocked me out. It's not my fault."

The older CSI grumbled and shook his head as the went through the back door. "Excuses. It _is_ your fault! And it's Stacy Wilden's blood that's on your hands, Sanders, so I hope you can live with that for the rest of your life. God, you're such a screw-up; I don't know why Grissom even let you retake your proficiency. You're obviously not ready to become a _good_ CSI."

Greg felt tears come to his eyes and even though he tried to hide it, Warrick caught him wiping his face.

"Jesus Christ, don't fucking cry, I'm just being honest and you're gonna have to deal with it. You're weak, Sanders, weak! You're a complete failure."

Greg was hurt. His _heart_ hurt hearing a guy he thought was his friend say such things to him. His stomach churned and he swallowed thickly as they went into the basement. Catherine was already there and he composed himself not wanting her to notice and give Warrick another reason to hate him.

"Hey boys, glad you could make it. I heard about your last case Warrick; I'm sorry."

"Yeah," the man sighed glaring at Greg. "Me too."

Greg just looked down at the body, not wanting to make anymore eye contact with him for...well forever.

"Greg you okay, sweetie?" Catherine smiled sadly, looking up at him. "I know it was tough on you, too."

"Um, y-yeah. I'm doing alright."

The blonde looked suspicious, but decided to drop it for now. They had work to do.

"Alright, we have a security guard for Mason Electrics, which is the company's building. He hadn't check in and when they came down to the basement floor, they found this."

"We know his name?" Warrick asked, starting to snap pictures.

"No, but I just got his fingerprint and I was waiting for you guys for the scanner. You two start processing and I'll be right back." She left and Greg immediately felt uncomfortable again. He gulped and snapped pictures of the surrounding area...and that's when he saw it. The blood trail. He cleared his throat, knowing that he couldn't just leave without saying anything. He had to do the job no matter what.

"There's a blood trail coming from upstairs."

Warrick looked up and nodded before he took the lead, Greg silently followed, keeping a sharp eye out. He didn't want to screw up again; for all he knew, the killer could still be here. The trail lead up to the first floor where they found the guard's office.

"Looks like there was struggle," Greg said as he stepped into the room. "Chair's flipped and the majority of the blood is here."

"Guess this is our primary and then he was dragged downstairs."

The younger CSI nodded as he went further into the small room, taking pictures and looking for any other clues while Warrick took prints. He stopped when he saw a bag in the corner, almost hidden from sight. Which was weird, because the _guard's_ bag was right next to the chair. Bitting the inside of his cheek, he let his camera hang from his neck as he squat down and carefully pulled back the flap. What he saw made the blood drain from his face and his heart stop.

"W-Warrick?"

"What now?" The man said in an exasperated sigh. When Greg didn't answer, he looked up. "What!"

"There's a bomb."

"What?" Now Warrick sounded serious and scared.

"There's a lot of C4 in here...and a timer."

"Well how much-"

"Two and a half minutes."

"Dammit! We gotta get everybody out of here!" Warrick pulled the fire alarm before taking out his phone and dialing Catherine's number while he and Greg rushed up to the main floor.

_"Willows."_

"Catherine, there's a bomb in here! Get everybody away from the building now. Now!"

The woman's heart stopped as time slowed and she looked at the hundred's of people on the street. When she regained her composure, she began running through the crowd, shouting frantically and holding up her badge.

"LVPD! Everybody away from the building, now! Run! Get back, go back! Now! Down, the street, all the way down!"

Warrick and Greg rushed upstairs, knocking on doors as the alarms sounded. People came stumbling out of their rooms in confusion, wondering if the alarm was a drill.

"Come on, let's move! We have a bomb in here! This is not a drill!" Warrick shouted. "Everybody out the fire exit, move!" People started murmuring as they clambered for the door and ran down the stairs. They checked all the rooms, seeing that they were either empty or locked. That had been close; now they had to get themselves out.

"Come on," he said to Greg, grabbing the kid's arm and dragging him back downstairs to make sure there was no one else. They must've had forty seconds tops. They knocked on more of the doors, but found those were locked too.

"Okay, lets get-"

All of a sudden, a young looking boy- probably a temp- came around the corner, headphones on and oblivious to everything around him. He stopped, though, when he ran into the CSI's.

"What's going on?" He asked, pulling down the earbuds.

"What the hell are you doing, get outta here!" Greg shouted. He wanted to save as much people as possible to make up for the one he didn't. Maybe then he would be a better CSI.

_Five seconds._ They were near the guard's office and he could hear the rapid beeping down the hall. He shared a worried look with Warrick before he ran up to the kid.

"Greg no!" Warrick shouted. Why was the idiot running away from the exit?

Greg barreled into the temp, shielding him just as the bomb went off and the blast knocked them off their feet. He felt his head smash onto something before he was engulfed in total darkness.

Catherine was thrown back as the bomb exploded, the ground and building shaking and fire, cement and wood emerging, from the windows. All she could hear was ringing in her ears and the faint sound of car alarms and screams from the other pedestrians. Groaning, she put her hand to her head and sat up coughing at the amount of smoke getting in her lungs. She could feel the blood running down her temple as she staggered to her feet and blinked to focus her vision. She looked around at the destruction, embers and papers floating in the air. People were groaning in pain, being led away by friends and then it hit her. Warrick and Greg were nowhere to be seen. They had still been in the building when the bomb went off.

"Shit."

~+CSI+~

Greg groaned before breaking into a chest rattling cough. He felt like he had been hit by a truck and thrown at full force against a wall. Maybe that's what happened...no wait, it was coming back to him now. There had been a bomb. Shit! His eyes snapped open and he was met with a dim and smoky light coming from somewhere. Coughing again, he looked to his left and right to find rubble all around him. His head pounded and he could feel blood dripping down his face; his body felt cold and he whimpered when he tried to sit up... something was stabbing him. His weakly lifted his head up and brought shaky, cut up hands to his stomach where the pain was. He pulled back his jacket and gasped. There were shards of glass sticking out from his left side. They were small, but when he brought his gaze to the other side, he wanted to cry. This glass was a lot thicker and probably longer...which meant if he took it out he could bleed to death. Best just to leave it there. Now, for the other ones. With trembling fingers, he pulled out the smaller pieces of glass with grunts and gasps of pain. It seemed like forever by the time he threw them to the ground and he broke into a cold sweat. He clenched his eyes shut for a second, letting the waves of nausea pass before he looked at the damage. It was bleeding...a lot. _Fuck._ Greg took a deep breath and tried to think. He had to do something. He couldn't slow down right now; he was in a collapsed building that could come crashing down at any second. A thought finally came to him and he ripped off his shirt sleeve, trying to tie it around his waist and over the profusely bleeding wound. When he was done, he could barely breathe and he coughed harshly again, swearing he tasted blood in his mouth. The side of his back also felt tight and it was stinging...which could only mean one thing: he had been burned, too. How badly, he didn't know and didn't _want_ to know at the moment. Greg sighed, looking at the makeshift bandage and figured it ought to hold for a while. He just hoped they got out in time before he bled out. Now for the other wound...Greg sniffed, deciding there was nothing to do but cover it up with his jacket and pray that no one would see it or ask why he was in so much pain. Because he was; every movement sent bolts of agony throughout his body. Tears dripped down his dirt covered face as he inhaled through his nose before he sat up on his elbows and looked around the destruction.

"W-Warrick?" He coughed, blinking through the dust. Wincing, he rolled over onto his hands and knees before pushing himself up to wobbly legs. "Warrick!"

"Over...over here."

Greg turned to see Warrick laying a few feet ahead of him, sitting up stiffly. Blood was dripping down his forehead, but relatively looked fine. He got to his feet, coughing harshly as he scanned the area. "You okay, kid?" He asked as he climbed over boards and concrete.

"Y-Yeah," Greg lied, buttoning his jacket. "I'm good. You?"

"Think I may have hit my head, but other than that- wait, where's that kid?"

"I-I don't know...he was with me when the bomb went off." A wave of dizziness hit him and he blinked, praying Warrick hadn't seen him. Thankfully the older CSI was searching through the rubble, trying to find the temp and not paying attention. Greg took a deep breath and walked to where he had been lying to see if the kid had landed nearby. All of a sudden, he heard a small groan and he looked up. Walking over to, what use to be the wall, he saw a hand under the plasterboard along with another groan.

"Warrick! I found him." He knew he definitely couldn't lift the thing by himself. Warrick stumbled over and on the count of three, they lifted up the board up and the temp blinked his eyes open, sitting up with the help of Greg.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah...thanks."

"No problem..."

"Luke...Luke Ricker. Who are you guys?"

"CSI's. I'm Greg, that's Warrick."

"Y-You're the one who saved me. I owe you my life," Luke breathed.

"No problem, dude. Do you have any injuries?"

"I don't think so..surprisingly."

Greg forced a smile. _Yeah, surprisingly._ He was sure that if he hadn't shielded the Luke, the kid would be the one with the glass in his stomach.

"Alright, enough talk," Warrick sighed. "We gotta figure a way outta here. Start banging around, get someone to hear us."

The two younger men nodded and they all walked to separate areas of the collapsed building.

~+CSI+~

Catherine sat in the back of the ambulance, holding an ice pack to her head while her mind was going a million miles per minute. Greg and Warrick were still in the building. Whether they were alive or dead was the question. _They're strong Catherine. They have to be alive._

"Cath! Catherine!"

The blonde looked up to see Nick running towards her, a petrified look on his face.

"Nicky."

"Catherine, what happened?" He looked around, noticing that two of his friends were missing. "Where are Warrick and Greg?"

The older woman looked at him sadly and the Texan went weak in the knees. "No..."

"They were in the building went it went off...I've tried calling, but there was no answer."

"Oh god." Nick sat down next to her and breathed shakily while she put a hand on his back.

"Take it easy, Nick. For all we know, they could be okay. We just need to have hope."

Nick swallowed and nodded his head jerkily. "Right...what do you need me to do?"

"We wait."

"Cath, you know I can't do that. My best friends could be dying...I need to...I gotta do something." He stood up and ran past FBI agents and police officers, desperate to get to the collapsed building and rescue his brothers. Just as he was reached the wrecked door, he was blocked by a firefighter.

"LVPD, move out of the way!"

"Sir, you can't go in there."

"The hell I can't! Now move!"

"That area isn't cleared! We can't risk moving anything over here yet without causing a secondary collapse. You're just gonna have to wait."

Nick groaned, running a hand through his spiky hair. "Fine." He walked back to where Catherine was. She was giving him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry, Nicky. Just take a deep breath. It's gonna be okay."

"I hope you're right, Catherine," he said staring at the building. "I hope you're right." He wasn't too worried about Warrick, but Greg...the kid was just...well he was a kid! And he shouldn't have to be subjected to something like this. He wasn't even fully a CSI yet, failing his last proficiency. Luckily, Grissom gave him another chance. Greg was his little brother, though, and he felt that he needed to be the one to protect him. And he couldn't do that stuck out here. _Just be okay, Greggo. Please be okay._

~+CSI+~

They had been banging around on the metal beams and the wall for at least half an hour, but there had but nothing but silence...and Greg wasn't sure how long he could last. He was cold, nauseous and dizzy and every time he lifted his arm, pain shot through his wounds and he swore he was bleeding out more. His side felt sticky and wet and he knew the t-shirt bandage wouldn't hold much longer. It was probably already soaked through. At one point, he accidentally brushed up against the glass in his stomach and he barely contained a whimper while his vision blacked out for a second. Thankfully, Warrick was too far on the other side to hear him. Greg breathed heavily and stopped banging before leaning against the wall, trying to stay conscious. Luke frowned and stopped as well, glancing worriedly at the younger CSI.

"Hey...you okay man? You look like you're gonna pass out."

"T-Tell me about it," Greg exhaled. Breathing was becoming strangely difficult and his lungs were tight. He turned and faced the temp and Luke gasped.

"You're bleeding!"

"Shh, not so loud." One because his head was pounding and two, he didn't want Warrick to know. "Please...please just don't say anything. Really, I'm fine. It's just a scratch." But when he looked down, he knew that he was _far_ from fine. The blood was beginning to soak through his jacket and some of his pants.

"A-Are you sure?" Luke was skeptical, but if the guy said he was fine, he guessed he had to believe it for now.

Greg gave the boy a weak smile. "Yeah...don't worry. I just need to take a break." Greg closed his eyes and tried to focus on breathing, but inhaling hungrily proved to make it worse. He started coughing violently, wheezing with each breath he could manage to take in. When he stopped, he brought his hand away from his mouth and his heart nearly stopped. Blood had splattered into his palm and there was a metallic taste in his mouth. He was coughing up blood. Great, another thing added to the list. Greg breathed through his nose and made sure Warrick was still on the other end. He had to suck it up. He was fine and he had to stop being a baby; it was nothing. Just scratches and bruises. He couldn't let Warrick think he was weak. He couldn't be a screw-up anymore. Groaning, he pushed himself off the wall and resumed pounding to get someone's attention. They just had to get someone so he could succumb to his injuries. Luke just looked at the CSI sadly, wondering why he didn't say anything about the injuries. He just hoped they all got out in time before things went south. It was about twenty minutes later when all of a sudden they heard people shouting and metal moving.

"Hello? Anyone down there?"

Greg let out a breath of relief. They had been found.

Nick was about to scream at someone if they didn't do anything. It had nearly been an hour and in that hour, nothing had happened except for the FBI and Homeland coming down to help. But they still hadn't managed to reach Greg and Warrick. And every waking minute that went by was making his heart hurt. Grissom and Sara were at the lab processing evidence and Catherine had left to go talk to the director and now he was all alone.

"Come on, Greggo. Where are you guys?"

Suddenly, he heard someone shout. "We found them!" He nearly collapsed in elation before keeping himself together and running over to the source. "Where? Where are they?" He managed to push pass some of the helpers and firefighters and reached a small hole they made in the debris. There he saw Greg, a very pale but okay looking version of him, Warrick and someone else that got caught in the bomb.  
>"Greg! Warrick, thank god you guys are alive. You okay?"<p>

Warrick nodded. When Greg said that he heard voices, he rushed over to the kid to see that he hadn't been hallucinating. The cement fell away and they saw a face in the hole. They were saved.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"What about you, G?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm good." His voice had been shaky and hesitant and he hoped that no one picked up on it. Especially Nick; the Texan had a six sense when it came to something being wrong. But apparently Warrick did notice something was off with the younger CSI. For one, he never noticed how sickly pale he looked. It had been pretty dark and the small hole of sun that shone through highlighted his gaunt features. His body also looked like tremors were running through it, he was wheezing slightly and there was...there was blood on his lips. It could've been from a split lip, but he had a feeling it wasn't.

"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked and Greg visibly flinched.

Greg glanced over and gave Warrick a weak smile. He was slowly dying on the inside, every wound screaming to be taken care of. But he couldn't show the man he was weak. He had to be strong. If he could just hold out for a little longer, they would be out of this hell hole soon and he would be okay again.

"Mmhmm. I'm fine, I swear." He didn't want to look Warrick in the eye, because he would definitely know he was lying. "Don't worry about me. I promise I'm okay."

Warrick _knew_ Greg was lying, but he didn't press it any further for right now. They had to focus on getting out first without the whole building falling on top of them.

"We're gonna get you guys out soon," Nick grinned. "Jesus, you guys really know how to give me a heart attack."

Warrick chuckled. "Sorry man. Hey, where are the others?"

"Catherine's talking to the director and I think Sara and Gris are at the lab, manning things there."

Greg all of a sudden started coughing violently into his hand and he bent over trying to catch his breath.

"Greg?" Nick shouted, wishing he could be in there to comfort the kid.

Warrick stepped over to him but Greg put a hand up, not wanting the man to come over. He didn't want him to see the blood he was spitting out or touch him without making him pass out.

"N-No...don't. I'm...I'm okay. D-Dust just...got caught in m-my...my throat. I''m fine...jus' give me...a minute."

The two older men were worried. Something was wrong with the young CSI and they were determined to figure out what that was when they got out. Warrick bit his lip and stepped back.

"How much longer?" He looked up to Nick.

Nick turned around and shouted to someone before facing back. "About another half hour." The Texan glanced over at the blonde as he finally stopped coughing and stood up, wiping his mouth. "Keep an eye on him, 'Rick, okay? Something isn't right."

Warrick nodded and looked sadly at the young man who was oblivious to what had been said, more concentrated on getting his breathing back to normal. Warrick felt extremely guilty for what he said to the kid this morning. It wasn't Greg's fault the previous case went sour, but he had been pissed about how things turned out and needed someone to take it out on. Greg was just there. He realized he had been a complete jackass and if Nick or Catherine found out, they wouldn't be as quiet as Greg had been. The fact that the blonde had just taken it made him wonder if he really put down his self-esteem...made him believe that he was a weak failure. Well, that was far from true; Greg had grown up to be a great CSI so far. He was about to say something to the kid when the rubble shifted again, shaking the floor. His heart leapt in his throat and stayed there until it stopped.

"Just hang on you guys," Nick said with a confident grin. "We're almost there."

Greg nodded, forcing a smile as he tried to breathe with constricted lungs. If they didn't get out soon, he was surely going to die right here. He was colder than ever- more internally than out- he could still feel the blood coming out of his open wound, but it was slower...which wasn't good. _Don't give up now, Sanders. You have to prove yourself; it's now or never._

They waited another thirty minutes and the opening was becoming clear. They would be out in seconds. The adrenaline was slowly starting to wear off of Greg. He shivered furiously and his forehead was sweating. No doubt there was an infection of some sort. Warrick kept looking at him funny and as much as it pained him, Greg stood up straight and tried to pretend he was not hurt. Luke, on the other hand, knew he was severely injured...and as much as he wanted to tell Warrick, he kept his promise. Time went by in a blur, but they finally moved all the debris away, able to make a path for the three to come out.

The adrenaline was completely gone now. Greg's vision doubled, fading in and out as he saw Luke start walking out, Warrick not far behind. He tried to take a step, but he legs felt like jello and his stomach did a somersault. Before he knew it, he was bending over, heaving his guts out, in more pain than he had been in all day. Tasting more blood and bile in his mouth made him sicker and he couldn't stop...he wanted it all to just end.

"Greg?" Warrick shouted when he heard Greg puking. He spun around and saw the kid doubled over and he quickly walked over to comfort him. Little did he know, touching the blonde would make it worse. "Greg!" And then he saw it, the blood in the man's throw-up...that definitely wasn't a good sign. He placed a gentle hand on Greg's back, but before he knew what was happening, the blonde cried out in agony before sagging into him.

Greg's body was sensitive...actually, overly sensitive right now mostly from the extreme blood loss. It ached so bad that the second Warrick touched his side with the burns, white hot pain shot through every single nerve in his body and he blacked out.

Nick heard Warrick yell Greg's name, he stopped helping Luke and ran back inside to see Greg falling into Warrick, the older man looking petrified as it happened while catching him and carefully holding him in his arms.

"'Rick! What the hell happened?"

"I-I don't know! He just passed out! Oh god, he's bleeding...a lot." He knew something was wrong and he did nothing about it. Some friend he was this week. Greg moaned feebly, his eyelids fluttering when Nick put a hand on his forehead.

"He's cold. We gotta get him out of here. I need the paramedics! Now!" The two cautiously picked Greg up and brought him outside, setting him on a spare stretcher. Now that they could see better, Greg looked a hundred times worse. Despite him being clammy, his forehead was slicked with sweat. His eyes seemed sunken against his vividly pallid skin and his breathing was raspy. And the blood...there was so much and they had no idea where it was coming from.

"Open his jacket," Nick instructed shakily. He was scared at what he was going to be seeing. Greg whimpered and his eyes rolled around, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Oh my god," Nick choked. When they unbuttoned the man's jacket, his shirt was completely soaked in red. They could see that Greg tried to bandage up one of the bleeding wounds with a torn off sleeve and...

"Shit." Nick felt disgusted. A glass shard was plunged deep into Greg's side and he knew taking it out would cause the kid to bleed out even more. And given the amount that was all over his clothes, he couldn't afford to lose anymore. "Where is that fucking medic!?"

"N-Nick..." Greg moaned.

"Right here, Greggo. Just hang on okay? You're gonna be alright."

"E-Everything...hurts," he wheezed, opening his pain filled brown eyes, making Nick's heart hurt. "S-So...c-cold. Can't...c-can't breathe." He eyes began to close again, his body trembling.

"He's going into shock," Warrick said while putting pressure on his bleeding wound. "Greg, you gotta stay with us, come on." This was his fault. There had been a fucking piece of glass impaling the kid and he didn't even see it! He should have...maybe he should've checked him over just to make sure he was really okay. Now he could die. He just really wanted to know why Greg had hid it from them; clearly he was in pain, but he said he was fine. It was obvious he had been trying to conceal his injuries given the makeshift bandage he had, but why the hell didn't he say anything?

"M'sorry...m'weak," he mumbled.

"No G, you're not weak," Nick breathed, cupping his little brother's face. "You are so strong. Now come on, pull through this."

"Can't..." he whispered.

"Yes you can, Greg!" He turned away for only a second. "Somebody please! I need help!" And when he turned back, his heart stopped. "No..." This couldn't be happening. "Greg, no!" The young CSI wasn't breathing. His eyes were shut, his face was gray and his chest was fucking immobile. Why the hell was nobody coming!? Greg was dying! Tears trailed down his face, knowing he couldn't wait another second. He started CPR, sobbing in the process because he knew he was probably adding more injuries in the process. His little brother couldn't die. He couldn't lose him like this. "Greg, please don't do this to me!" He moved to Greg's mouth and started rescue breaths, hating how cold the blonde's blood coated lips were...how the metallic taste sickened him. Greg was slowly dying and he was feeling utterly helpless right now. He was so intent on saving his brother's life that he didn't even know Catherine had run up with the paramedics right beside her.

"Nicky, move out of the way so they get help Greg."

"I-I can't let him die, Cath," Nick sniffed, continuing the compressions.

"That's why you gotta let the paramedics do their job. Come on." She gently grabbed his arm and the Texan reluctantly let himself be pulled away. The medics immediately stepped in, one placing an ambu-bag over Greg's mouth and pumping oxygen into his lungs while the other continued the compressions. If they couldn't get him back in four minutes, they were gonna have to use the AED. And Nick didn't want to have to see that. Greg was so hurt that they would have to shock his heart back to life.

"Come on, Greggo. Come on."

Catherine grabbed his hand and held it tightly, silently praying that her youngest surrogate son would pull through this. They all waited three excruciating minutes when finally Greg inhaled hungrily, his chest heaving and coughing up a lung. His eyes, unfortunately, remained closed.

"He's got a weak pulse, blood pressure is low, temperature is high. Most of the wounds look infected; don't remove the glass until we get him to the hospital. We don't know what it hit. It's probably stopping him from bleeding out anymore. Get him started on fluids, too."

The CSI's watched as Greg was patched up as much as he could be, the shard stabilized so it wouldn't move around anymore and an oxygen masked placed over his ashen face.

"Radio the hospital to have a trauma team ready at the entrance," one of the medics said to the other. They lifted Greg onto the gurney before wheeling him to the awaiting ambulance. Warrick swallowed; everything had gone by so fast. And he couldn't let that kid be alone during this. He was about to follow when he was stopped by a different paramedics.

"Sir, we can check your injuries here."

"But-"

"Warrick, stay here," Catherine said. "Nick will go with him."

Reluctantly, the man nodded and watched Nick hop into the back of the ambulance and speed away out of sight. Warrick exhaled shakily; if Greg didn't make it through this...if one of the last things out of his mouth to the blonde was 'you're a failure' he would never forgive himself. Guilt would consume him and he wouldn't know how to live with the consequences.

~+CSI+~

Nick wanted to throw-up when the medics cut off Greg's shirt, revealing his mangled, bloodied form.

"Jesus, Greg." There was so much..._too _much blood. And Greg was a small guy, he probably only had so much in his skinny body. He slipped his trembling hands into Greg's cold one, stroking his cut up knuckles. "You can't do this, Greg. You can't give up now. Just please...please pull through...keep fighting. You're almost there. Pretty soon this'll all be over and everything will be back to normal." The Texan wiped his face and he took a deep breath. "I never wanted you to leave the lab...I didn't want you to become a CSI. Not because I didn't think you'd be good at it...but because I didn't want you to get hurt. It's a war out here and in the lab- besides from the explosion- it's safer. When you're out here, I can't protect you. When you move on to doing solos I...I won't be able to protect you and I will always worry if you're okay and if you're safe. I know you can take care of yourself, but no matter what, you'll still be my brother. My annoying, crazy little brother."

The medic smiled to herself as she placed another I.V. into the injured man's vein. This guy really meant something to the older CSI. "Alright, he's stabilizing," she said and the tension in Nick's body seemed to melt away for the time-being. "He's a fighter."

"Yeah...he is," Nick smirked, squeezing Greg's limp hand. All of a sudden, Greg's eyelids twitched and Nick sat forward eagerly. "G? Can you hear me, bud?"

It took a moment, but Greg's eyes slid open. He glanced around tiredly until he met Nick's grinning face.

"Hey buddy," Nick whispered, assuming that any loud noise could upset Greg. "You're gonna be alright, you hear?" Greg just stared at him listlessly with his dull brown eyes...and Nick could easily read it. The pain...the defeat. "Now, now, Greg don't quit. We're almost to the hospital."

But the only response he got was the man's eyes rolling into the back of his head while his body shuddered furiously.

"Greg!"

"He's going into hypovolemic shock! What's the eta!?"

"Thirty-five seconds!" The driver shouted.

"Drive faster! We're already losing him!"

"Oh god." Please don't take him away from us. Nick felt cold and he closed his eyes, trying to hold in the tears. He had to be strong for Greg; he couldn't fall apart right now. And that brought up one question; what made the kid think he was weak?

~+CSI+~

Warrick had been lucky; he only had cuts and bruises. _Luke_ had been lucky. He had a small gash on his leg, nothing serious. But it always had to be Greg who got hurt the most. Nick thought the explosion was bad? He was wrong. After getting out of the ambulance, Greg's heart had stopped. That was what Nick was left with...that was how he last saw his kid brother. He was left alone for a good half hour, worrying, pacing, feeling sick to his stomach...pissed off at whoever hurt his friends. He was about to punch a wall when the rest of the team rushed in, Grissom and Sara included. And he didn't care if it looked unmanly. He briskly walked over to Warrick and pulled him into a binding hug. Warrick didn't resist as he let his younger brother know he was okay. Nick was unable to hold it in and he started crying dryly. It had been the worse three hours of his life...but he couldn't complain. Greg was in the operation room fighting for his own. A few minutes later, Sara took Nick to go calm down and eat something while Warrick and Catherine went up to the nurse's desk to see how their friend was doing.

"Excuse me," Warrick cleared his throat. "Where is Greg Sanders?"

The nurse, Alexa, began typing on the keyboard before reading. "He is...currently in surgery. I can let the doctor know you're here, though."

Catherine nodded, rubbing Warrick's arm. "Thank you." The two headed back to the chairs and sat down, the blonde noticing something was on the younger man's mind.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

"Rick, you know you can't lie to me. What's on your mind?"

The man sighed and looked down at the floor. "I should've seen that Greg was hurt...maybe pressed him more. I could tell he had been lying and I didn't do anything. I'm supposed to protect Nick _and _him." He shook his head. "I couldn't do that and now we might lose him."

"There was nothing you could've done. And we're not going to lose him. Greg is a fighter; he's strong."

Warrick scoffed. "That's another thing. I was such a jackass to him after the Stacy Wilden case. I blamed him for getting her killed...for screwing up. He said sorry countless times, even when I knew it wasn't his fault, and I just yelled at him. I told him that it was Stacy's blood on his hands and that I hoped he could live with that for the rest of his life. I-I made him, cry Cath. I even called him out on it. And I called him a failure and weak."

Catherine stared at the man incredulously. That's what was wrong with the kid this morning. Warrick had given him a beat down just before they saw her. She couldn't believe it.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Warrick? He's just a kid; he's learning! And that bastard knocked him out! Obviously he couldn't stop him. God, I'm so disgusted I don't even want to look at you right now." She got up and left. Warrick didn't blame her. He was disgusted with him too. He had hurt Greg and now he was going to have to live with it. It hit him, now, that it was why Greg didn't say anything. He was trying to prove himself not weak.

"Fuck." He muttered, burying his face in his hands. He really messed up.

~+C+~

"You okay?" Sara asked sadly as she looked across at the Texan. They were in the cafeteria sitting at a booth, drinking coffee. Well, she was; Nick was just staring into it, swirling it with a stirrer stick. His face was pale, tear tracks streaking his face and shadowed, red rimmed eyes.

"No," Nick replied quietly.

Silence.

"It should've been me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I should've been the one with Warrick, but something...personal came up and Grissom sent Greg. It's my fault. He shouldn't be the one trying to survive. Maybe if it had been me it wouldn't be so bad but...Greg's small...fragile." He felt so nauseous. "I know he's not weak, hell he's the strongest guy I know. He came back to work despite how he felt a couple days after the lab incident. Had it been me, I would've taken a least a week or so."

"It's not your fault; you didn't know this was going to happen. No one did."

"I know, but...I should've taken care of my problem on my own time. Greg never would've done that had it been him. He's a much better CSI than I am and he isn't even one yet. Sara...what if I can't tell him that? What if I never got to tell him the things I wanted to because..."

Sara took his both of his hands with hers. "Nick, listen to me. He's not going to die. I know that, you, especially, know that. Like you said, he's strong. You won't give up without a fight. He's going to be alright."

Nick swallowed tersely and looked up into the brunettes eyes with a short nod. Sniffing he rubbed his eyes. He prayed that she was right. "Okay," he said with a weak smile.

Sara smiled back before her phone suddenly rung. She let go of Nick's hands and answered it.

"Hey...okay, we're headed down."

"Who was that?" Nick asked eagerly when she hung up.

"That was Grissom. Greg's doctor is there."

The Texan shot up out of the booth, tossed his coffee and started rushing back. Sara rolled her eyes with a small grin. Same old Nick.

When they got there, everyone was sitting in the cluster of chairs...along with the doctor. And Nick wasted no time and began asking questions.

"Is Greg okay? Please tell me he's okay. Where is he?"

"Nicky, take it easy," Catherine said, bringing him to sit next to her. "He was just beginning to tell us."

Nick looked at the man. "Well?"

"My name is Dr. Watson. I'm Mr. Sander's attending doctor."

"How is he?" He couldn't wait any longer. Just get to it already.

"He's currently undergoing in surgery. When Greg arrived, his heart had stopped and it took us five minutes with the paddles to get him back. His body was and still is under a lot of stress; it's going into over drive to repair the damages."

"Damages like what?" Warrick asked.

"Well to start, the shard of glass penetrated his small intestine. He was smart not to take it out, otherwise a lot of the fluids in the digestive tract would've leaked out and killed him within a couple hours. We managed to remove it and repair the wound immediately. Moving on to the other stab wounds, one of the them went right through his spleen which is why he bled out so much. I'm very surprised of how long he lasted. He lost nearly three pints of blood, causing him to go into hypovolemic shock, and I don't know how he was able to stay conscious after that. We transfused him the blood he lost, but we had to remove the spleen, unfortunately. Even though he'll be able to live without it, the recovery will be a lot slower due to a weak immune system. Greg also has two six broken ribs, one of which punctured his left lung and that's why he was having trouble breathing and coughing up blood. We'll have him on a ventilator until he's strong enough to breathe on his own. Other injuries are a major concussion, a cracked sternum and some third degree burns on his left side."

Warrick shook his head. That was probably why Greg passed out from his touch. He had been burned. Another thing he failed to see. Nick was devastated. More burns and more scars to remind Greg of the dangers and nightmares from this job.

"When he's more stable we'll be able to have him undergo a skin graft surgery to repair some of those burns. Other than that, there are only some cuts and severe bruises on sixty-five percent of his body."

"W-When will he be out of the operation?" Sara questioned.

"In about a couple more hours. My team just finished removing his spleen and will now be moving onto repairing his intestine. I'll have a nurse come and inform you when he gets out."

"Thank you, doctor," Catherine sighed. Greg had a long, painful way to go.

~+C+~

Nick choked when he saw Greg...lying motionlessly on the hospital bed. The surgery finished only an hour ago, but the kid didn't seem to look any better than he did in the ambulance. He was so pale...so small. And the machines...the ventilator made him appear so small. His chest was bare besides the thick bandage wrapped from his waist to under his armpits. Ugly colored bruises littered his arms and face along with shallow cuts practically everywhere. There were so many wires and tubes going in and out of his body...for blood, for nutrients...for air. The ventilator's clicking noise made everyone flinch. Greg needed that to breathe. The tube protruding from Greg's mouth was all wrong. His lips were blue and chapped, his eyes were sunken, and his face was sheet white, a thick layer of sweat coating his forehead. He looked in pain. The doctor said that Greg wasn't in a coma, but they weren't sure when he was going to wake up. By just looking at the kid, Nick wished Greg _was_ in a coma; then maybe he wouldn't have to deal with any of this shit. All in all, Greg looked horrible and it was going to be awhile before things were okay again.

Nick shivered. "I need some air." He turned around and disappeared down the hall. Seeing Greg like that made him sick to his stomach with guilt. This was wrong. All fucking wrong.

Warrick sighed. "I'll go talk to him." Anything to avoid going into Greg's room. Not because he didn't want to but...he was afraid. Afraid that Greg wouldn't want him there; that he would create problems if Greg knew he was there. He wouldn't blame the kid for being scared of or hating him. He was a jerk and he knew it was best to just stay away for a bit.

Catherine smiled sadly before walking into the air-conditioned, quiet room, Sara and Grissom following. She sat down and carefully took Greg's limp hand in hers. "Oh Greg, sweetie." The fact that Greg wasn't strong enough to breathe on his own made her want to cry. "You pull through this alright? We're all here for you. Nicky is heartbroken." She listened to the mechanical breaths of the younger man. "He loves you like a little brother and I love you like a son so you can't leave any of us, alright? You beat this." She squeezed his hand, tears trailing down her face. She hated seeing the man so broken. The last time he was like this, it had been her fault. "You are so strong." She stared at the boy's face for a moment when all of a sudden she felt Greg's fingers weakly curl around her hand.

"Greg, honey? Can you hear me?" She glanced up at Sara and she looked equally surprised.

"Greg?" The brunette said, cupping Greg's cheek.

But it seemed he was only aware for mere moments, because Greg's fingers slackened not long after.

Catherine pursed her lips before rubbing the top of his hand comfortingly. "You're gonna be alright, kiddo." She kissed his fingers gently. "It's gonna be alright."

Nick burst outside breathing heavily before collapsing on a nearby bench. His body trembled, but he didn't cry. He had no more tears. Greg didn't deserve to look like that; it was horrible. Had it not been for the machines, the kid could look like he was dead. "Fuck, Greggo. It shouldn't have been you."

"Nick?"

The Texan looked up and saw Warrick standing next to him. "Warrick...hey."

The older man sat down next to Nick. "You okay?"

"Why is everybody asking _me_ that, Greg's the one who's lying on his fricken death bed in there."

"Nick, he's gonna be fine; you have to believe that."

"I'm trying to, man...but after seeing him like that, it's...difficult. You know I was supposed to be on that case with you?" Nick clasped his hands together and shook his head. "He shouldn't be in this mess; Greggo is gonna hate me."

"I doubt that, man. If anything, he'll hate me."

Nick frowned and glanced up. "What are you talking about?"

The Texan was probably going to beat him to a pulp once he confessed this. Catherine was already pissed with him. "Well, for one...I blamed him for Stacy Wilden's death...and I called him weak. I don't know why, I was just so mad and I took it out on him."

Nick's mouth was agape. Was he hearing this correctly? That's probably why Greg kept calling himself weak. "Seriously? Did you really say that to him?" He shot up from the bench. "Warrick, how could you do that to him!? He's not perfect, nobody is! What if your places were switched? He would never blame something like that on you! Oh my god, I can't believe you right now. You're supposed to be his big brother...my big brother. He's supposed to look up to the both of us and when you put him down...fuck! His self-confidence was already down after the lab explosion and the failed proficiency test and now...god this is ten times worse!" And without warning, he punched Warrick in the jaw and then stormed off, needing to cool down before going back to see Greg. Warrick huffed, cradling his pounding face. He guess he earned that. He earned any punishment he got.

Fifteen minutes later found Nick standing over Greg's small body. He was still pissed off at Warrick, but he had to calm down for now. Sighing shakily, he sat down and grabbed Greg's hand and enveloped it in both of his.

"Hey buddy...how are you feeling?"

No response.

"Sorry, that was stupid question; you're obviously feeling like shit. Catherine told me you squeezed her hand. That's great man." He hoped the kid would do that for him. _Okay enough small talk Stokes._ "Listen, if you can hear me, I want to apologize. You weren't supposed to be with Warrick, I was. If I had just taken the call out, you wouldn't even be here." Nick looked up at the ceiling for a second, gathering his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Greggo. I hope you can forgive me." He waited for a second. Wondering if Greg would move. "Warrick told me what he said to you the other day. I punched him in the face for it. Anyways, you can't let him bother you with that shit; he's an asshole. You are not weak, G. You are becoming a great CSI and you gotta believe that. You are strong and brave and I'm proud to call you my little brother. You're not a failure, okay? Everybody makes mistakes. I've made plenty of them and so has Warrick. We all have those cases that don't end up the way we want them to, but, hey, that's life. We try as hard as we can on our side. Stacy's death is _not_ your fault, kiddo, alright?" He suddenly felt Greg's fingers twitch and Nick's heart raced.

"Greg?"

And like Catherine had experienced, Greg's hand feebly curled before going slack again. Nick grinned with relief. "I'm right here, bud. Just relax and get better. That's all want for you."

**Five Days Later  
><strong>Greg finally woke up. Nick was the happiest he had been in awhile when he came back from a coffee break to see Greg's eyes opening. The tube had been removed a couple days ago as the blonde had become stronger. Although he was sore and in a lot of pain, Greg was happy he was alive. Everybody was. The doctor had come and gone already, administering more morphine into I.V. which made him drowsy.

"Hey man," Nick smiled as he sat back down.

Greg rolled his head to face the Texan and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards. "Hey." It looked like he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open no matter how much he was trying to fight it.

"You want me to come back later; let you rest?"

"No...I'm good. I like the company," Greg replied in a raspy voice. The tube had left his throat dry and aching and no amount of water seemed to make it better.

"Okay...did the others visit?"

"Yeah. Catherine and Sara did together...got a kiss from both of them," he smirked.

Nick rolled his eyes. Classic Greg.

"Grissom came after...then you."

Nick pursed his lips angrily. Still no Warrick; coward. He was surprised Greg didn't say anything about it. "What about Warrick?"

"I don't know," Greg shrugged tiredly. "I'm probably sleeping every time he comes in."

Nick scoffed inwardly. He couldn't deal with that right now. Greg needed him.

"So you doing alright?"

"Yeah...why do you ask? I mean my body aches...a lot, but other than that I'm okay."

"Why didn't you say anything about being hurt...back in the building? When I asked the two of you guys if you were okay, you lied to me."

Greg looked down at his hands.

"You could've died, G. You did. For like four minutes; four excruciating, heart-stopping minutes. I thought I was gonna lose my little brother. Do you have any idea how helpless I was when you stopped breathing...when my CPR wasn't working? I was gonna lose it. It was really stupid not to tell anyone. Had we known how injured you were, we probably would've worked faster."

When Greg remained silent, Nick continued. "Is this about what Warrick said to you?"

The blonde sniffed and looked up with watery eyes. "I'm sorry...I just didn't want you or Warrick or anybody else to think I was weak."

"You really think that low of all of us? Of _me_ at least? I would never think that of you; Greg you are the strongest person I know. You can't listen to 'Rick when he says those things. When he's angry he could take it out on anyone. Now, that gives him no excuse for what he said to you, but you cannot believe it. You wouldn't be weak for telling people you were severely hurt. I mean a friggin piece of glass was in your side, Greg! You nearly bled out. It was a horrible situation, I would've been afraid, too, man. Nobody would've judged you."

Greg's body started trembling before he started sobbing. "I'm sorry, Nick. I was...I was really scared."

The Texan pursed his lips and brought the man into a gentle hug, minding the burns on Greg's back. The burns that he didn't know about yet. "It's alright, Greg. It's okay. It's not your fault; just let it all out."

Outside the room, Warrick was silently watching the two CSI's, Greg bawling his eyes out into Nick's shoulder. Guilt was eating him alive; he wished he could've been more of a brother to the kid. Running a hand through his bushy hair, he went for another walk.

Greg had ended up falling asleep after five minutes of crying and Nick left the room to go grab something to eat with Sara. It was only an hour later when Greg woke back up to see the doctor checking his monitors.

"Oh, Mr. Sanders, you're awake. That's good."

The blonde squeezed his eyes shut as he felt a headache coming on.

"Don't worry, I won't be here long. I just wanted to talk and ask a couple questions."

"O-Okay," Greg yawned.

"So, any severe pain, nausea, dizziness?"

"Not really. But my head kinda hurts...and my back feels tight."

"That's another reason I wanted to talk to you. When in the explosion, you got burned on the majority of the left side of your back. I did notice that you had some burn scars on the other side of your back from what I read was a lab explosion?"

Greg was shocked and he felt cold. More burns. More scars. He nodded numbly. "Y-Yeah," he choked.

"Well, the burn specialists will be able to reconstruct the most severe areas of it with split level skin grafting surgery. You seem to be getting stronger so I feel confident for scheduling the operation for an hour from now. I can give you a packet to read up on if you'd like."

"Um, n-no. I know how it goes."

Doctor Watson smiled sadly. "Alright. I advise you let someone from your team know."

Greg nodded jerkily and once the doctor left, he started to cry heavily. His back was already a mess and now it was going to look even worse. He couldn't believe this was happening to him. His body shuddered and he buried his face in his hands. He never even heard someone come in and start soothing him.

"Greg? It's alright, honey. You're alright."

_Catherine._

He let himself be pulled into a warm embrace and cried until he had no more tears left. He didn't know why this always happened to him.

~+CSI+~

Greg stared at the wall feeling sick. He was now lying on his side so he wouldn't disturb the freshly grafted skin. The surgery had been finished over seven hours ago but he didn't feel any better. All he could think about were the scars that he was going to have on his back for the rest of his goddamn life. A single tear dripped from the corner of his eye before he wiped it away and sat up tenderly. He had to be careful; he wasn't even supposed to be moving around. Greg threw back the covers and brought his legs over the bed. Nick had left, after making sure he was okay, promising he would be back after wrapping up the rest of the case. He didn't know how long that would be, but if the Texan or anyone else saw him up, he would be getting an ass kicking. But he had to see...he just had to know how bad it looked. Taking a deep breath, he gripped the I.V. pole and hobbled over to the bathroom. Greg turned on the light, going over to the mirror and taking a deep breath. _Here goes nothing._

Warrick paced outside of Greg's room. He had to be a man. He had to go see Greg and apologize. Inhaling sharply, he stepped inside the room only to see that the bed was empty. Warrick frowned and scanned the room; he was about to go call a nurse when he saw the bathroom light on and the door slightly ajar. Slowly, he walked over and quietly pushed the door open; what he saw was heart breaking.

Greg carefully let the gown over his body fall to the ground. Thankfully, he was wearing pajama pants, because it's just be awkward to be naked. His breathing was harsh and shuddering as he turned to the side and gingerly pulled back the large bandage covering the burn site. What he saw made his blood run cold. There were big white scars all over his back, some old and some new. And his entire left side was bright pink and wrinkled from where the doctors grafted the skin back together.

"Oh god," he sobbed. He looked disgusting...a freak. His knees wobbled and he clenched the sink in support, his knuckles white. Greg's shoulders heaved as he broke down. Nothing was going right for him anymore. He opened his eyes and looked at himself in the mirror; he was pale, bruised and cut all over. He looked like complete shit and the burns completed his ugliness. All of a sudden there was a knock on the door and Greg's head shot up with a gasp.

"Greg?"

_Warrick? What was he doing here?_ He turned around, putting on a fake smile but knew he couldn't hold it for long when he saw the pitied look on the man's face. Greg let the cries resume as he sank to the floor.

"Just say it...I'm a freak right?" He kept his head down until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Greg, you are not a freak."

"You don't have...have to lie for my s-sake. I'm disgusting...I'm weak and now I'm gonna have to live with more burns."

"Greg, man, don't let those burns define who you are...which is _not_ weak. I don't know why I took my anger out on you, but nothing is your fault, alright? It's not your fault Stacy is dead, it's not your fault for anything. The way you handled things back in that building- as idiotic as it was to hide your injuries from me- it proves how brave you are...and that you're going to become a great CSI."

Greg sniffed, still not looking anywhere but the ground.

"You're not a freak, man. Don't be disgusted. After all, girls think battle scars are hot."

Greg laughed weakly and wiped his face.

"Alright?" Warrick smirked. "You're gonna be fine, buddy. Now lets get you off this floor."

Greg nodded and let himself be helped onto his feet, bandage fixed and gown put back on before walking back to his bed. By the time he laid back down, he was exhausted and ready for another long nap.

"I'm sorry, Greg. I really am. I didn't mean to say those things to you. I was a bastard and I can understand if you don't forgive me."

Greg sighed. "Those things you said...you really didn't mean them?"

"Of course not, Greg. When I heard you failed the proficiency...I was disappointed. I really wanted you to become a CSI. You're great at it; you learn fast and I was glad Grissom decided to give you another chance. Just no more taking a piss at crime scenes, all right?"

Greg chuckled. "You don't have to tell me twice. I'm still embarrassed about that."

"Don't be; I've done worse, trust me. Remember when Sara caught me gambling? Almost got fired over it. So don't beat yourself up, alright? And if I have to, I'll do anything to gain your trust back."

The blonde smiled and yawned. "Thanks Warrick...by the way...I never asked. Are you okay?"

Warrick frowned. The kid had been severely injured and he was asking if _he_ was okay? "Yeah," he rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure...heard Nick punched you," Greg ended with smirk.

Warrick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm not letting him getting away with that."

"Bet he'll kick your ass," Greg mumbled, his eyes closing.

"Wanna actually bet on that?" Warrick scoffed.

"Hundred...bucks."

"Deal. Now go to sleep kid."

And he already was. Warrick smiled. He hoped he could earn Greg's trust back; he wanted to be a better brother to the kid. Now to go find Nick and inform him of this bet. Greg was totally gonna lose.

**FIN! **

**A/N: Hope you like it! BTW: go check out my CSI: Miami fanfictions, they need REVIEWS! Stay tuned for more stories :)**


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